The Letter That Never Came
by Dead Starization
Summary: When life seems like it will fall apart, things get worse and a certain blonde is not helping. Drarry. Please Review.
1. Beginning of the End

He fumbled with the keys to the front door. After dropping them at least twice in the snow, he finally heard the click and he pushed the door open with his knee. Closing the door behind him he found the dining room table and set the shoe box down, dropping the keys beside it. He then proceeded to find the light switch to the kitchen in the dark. He needed something to drink and he needed it now.

Rummaging through the top cupboards of the kitchen and after 'accidentally' dropping canned goods onto the floor, he finally found what he was looking for. Firewhiskey. It was only one bottle but it would have to do. He'd been through hell and back today and he needed something to at least take the edge off the pain.

Trying to uncork the bottle proved to be hard, but he did get it, then a picture frame that held a photo of the famous trio had shattered. He would fix it later, maybe. He downed half the bottle before turning off the kitchen light and heading into the living room. He flopped onto the couch and layed there drinking his Firewhiskey. Then his eyes fell on the shoe box in the dining room. The contents inside held everything that he had given his girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend, in the past. A Pandora bracelet for Christmas three years ago, an empty heart-shaped box that once held assorted chocolates, another box holding a snow globe of the icy landscape of Antarctica, a photo album of the two of them, and a necklace made out of white gold. This was currently why he was drinking.

She had called him out of the blue. Said she had a package at her place that was there by mistake. Well she didn't exactly make it sound that nice. In fact it was rather a rude call filled with swear words. Then, when he got over there, her new boyfriend answered the door, handed him the box, and shut the door. They deserved each other, which was for sure.

He strolled over to the box, gripping the bottle of Firewhiskey tightly in his right hand. With his left he carefully opened the lid, letting it slide off onto the table. Gazing at the contents inside, he saw just how much money he had put into her. All the useless, wasted money. Shaking his head, he walked towards the living room and sat once more on the couch determined that that was exactly where he was going to pass out. The box and its contents could be left until the next day, or the day after that.

Passing out proved to be a different subject, for he never did. His mind would wander and he would mostly think of the past. About his days at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Those days were amazing and all he had to worry about was Voldemort and Death Eaters coming after him. Life seemed so carefree than it did now. Now there was too much to worry about and he decided that maybe he didn't need a companion right now. Life was just too stressful as it was, add a girlfriend on top of that and he just couldn't manage it at all.

Working at the Ministry was difficult and he couldn't see her as much as he would have liked. Once a week just did not satisfy her at all and it wasn't too long before he found out that she was cheating on him. He confronted her about it, she broke up with him, then slammed the door in his face and didn't speak to him until two months later when she called him (this very same day) to take back all the stuff he had given her. Hell.

He then came upon a memory of the day he saved his arch rivals' life amidst burning flames. It was one he could never really forget. The way those grey eyes pleaded for help. Those eyes had said everything but hatred. They said fear and hope. In the end, the hope was answered and the fear was chased away by the lion that had saved the serpent.

But that was a long time ago and he hadn't heard or seen that blond at all. It was like he just fell off the face of the Earth. No papers said that he had gone to Azkaban. Nothing at work, no rumors about him or his grand (or not so grand) family. He hadn't seen him on his many travels during work or outside of work for that manner. Maybe he had just fallen off the face of the Earth. Well if that was the case, then the world got rid of one idiot.

Satisfied with his thoughts, he went to take another swig of Firewhiskey only to find that he had drunk all of it until it was dry in the bottle. Completely dissatisfied with everything, he pushed his aching body off the couch and trudged up the stairs to his bedroom. He slumped onto his bed and, seeing as taking off his clothes would be too much work, just left his clothes on and snuggled under the covers.

Sleep overcame him and he fell into the black abyss of his thoughts. Five hours later a knock sounded at the front door, shattering everything and leaving in its wake a severe ache.


	2. The Task

Groaning, he rolled out of bed, landing less than gracefully on his feet. The sudden movements made his head spin and he groaned. Life could not get any worse.

He grabbed a blanket from his bed and wrapped it around himself, covering his head. He looked similar to an Eskimo. He dragged his feet down the stairs, the blinding light not helping his migraine. He unlocked the front door and looked out. No one was staring back at him. Odd, he could've sworn he heard someone knock on the door. He turned to shut the door when a something caught his eye. Looking down he noticed it was an envelope addressed to him. He picked it up and quickly went back inside. How odd that he would be getting mail, especially on a Sunday.

He flipped the envelope over as he walked into the dining room. No return address. So whoever had sent this did not want to be found. He sat in one of the chairs and pulled himself up to the table, wrapping the blanket tighter around him. Light was too much the bare at the moment.

He sliced the envelope open after deciding it wouldn't poison or eat him and he knew that it definitely was not a howler. It was just a normal letter, though it was far from normal.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We have been informed of a very unfortunate event of which happen upon the 8th of January three years ago about the time the Dark Lord was destroyed. Mr. Draco Malfoy, son of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, was to be sentenced to serve a life-time imprisonment upon the decision of the Ministry and its inhabitants. Although plans did not go as they were supposed to and now Mr. Draco Malfoy has been missing for some time. Authorities' dealing with the matter at the time, sent the best they could to track and find Mr. Malfoy, however, no such luck has been sent their way and seeing as we have not yet received what should have been sent to us,we would greatly appreciate it if you could help us with this manner and bring him to us.

A great reward will be given to you upon your arrival with young Mr. Malfoy.

Sincerely,

Head Official of Azkaban

He threw the letter to the ground. Why should he risk his life again for someone who never once said 'Thank You' to him? It was a waste of his time, not that he had other things to do, but he might like having a week off from work. It would be nice to sit around all day and be lazy or maybe he could take a trip to Holland with Ron and Hermione. He made a mental note to talk to them later about it.

He pushed his chair back and got up, blanket falling to the ground. He was furious and stomped to the bathroom. Placing his hands upon the edges of the sink he looked into the mirror. Memories flashed before his eyes. Malfoy. There he was holding his hand out offering to be friends. Another of him casting the snake. The one where Hermione broke his nose and then the one where he was making bets on Harry's own life. Memories of Malfoy being nasty all collected and flashed like a never ending movie where you're forced to watch something so dreadful. Where the actors can't act and the filmers' can't film. Finally, the one memory he wished he could forget appeared and seemed to linger more than the others. The fire blazing around him. He's holding his hand out asking for help his eyes pleading. And then, just like that, the memory was gone leaving only Harry's own reflection.

After looking for a good minute he realized the position he was in. Quite like the one Malfoy was in before Harry had cast the horrible spell that ripped him open. There was so much blood. It was everywhere. And when Snape had come in, he thought he was done for and that he would be expelled for sure.

He opened the medicine cabinet and took Tylenol. Hoping the migraine would soon go away, he walked back into the dining room. He picked up his blanket and then glanced at the letter lying face down on the floor. Writing appeared on the back.

If you so choose to not do this task I shall make your life Hell.

Seeing as his life was already Hell, he walked into the living room and layed on the couch, blanket pulled to his chin. He didn't know if he would accept the task. Trying to hunt down your rival is a hard job especially when they have gone into hiding.

Little did he know he needn't look far to receive the reward.


End file.
